


Expecto Patronum

by espetrell



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:56:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espetrell/pseuds/espetrell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter AU. Les Amis are a study group trying to figure out how to create Patronuses. Grantaire is reluctant to show his to the rest because he knows it'll be the same as Enjolras'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Expecto Patronum

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to a wonderful anon for [the prompt!](http://espetrell.tumblr.com/post/62259842644/prompt-anon-here-i-do-have-one-but-its-a-bit-longish) Also was inspired by [this post.](attackofthechewenod.tumblr.com/post/59165214025/a-harry-potter-crossover-where-grantaire-fails-a) Hope you like it!

The study group had been Combeferre's idea.

Professor Hardcastle was too much even for a gifted Ravenclaw such as himself, and he and his fellow Ravenclaw Joly had decided to seek help. Hardcastle taught Defense Against the Dark Arts to all the houses, so they didn't see why they shouldn't recruit some students from the other houses as well. Combeferre, as the prefect of Ravenclaw, had convinced two other prefects to come along: Hufflepuff's Feuilly and Gryffindor's Courfeyrac. Enjolras, the Slytherin Head Boy who terrified even Peeves and who was also Combeferre's best friend since childhood, agreed to join as well. Joly had, for his part, invited Bossuet and Musichetta. No one could ever really remember how the rest had joined. They had trickled in, one by one, until the group as they now knew it was solidified.

Combeferre loved study group. He just wished that they could actually get any work done.

"Get back over here, mugglefucker!" Bahorel yelled as he practically tackled Jehan to the ground.

"Stop using bigoted language," Cosette calmly reminded him. Marius gripped her arm in fear, watching the two tussle on the floor, wands sparking. Finally they straightened up, brushing off identical Gryffindor robes. Bahorel pocketed the quill that Jehan had stolen from him, now bent.

"Give that quill here, Bahorel," Grantaire said, already sticking his hand into Bahorel's pocket and retrieving the quill. Grantaire tapped the quill with his wand, fixed it with a sighed "Reparo!", and handed it back.

"Can you stop goofing off and look at your assignment sheet or something?" Enjolras asked with a long-suffering air, glancing over his parchment at them, "Look what you've done to Prouvaire's braid."

"Come here, let me fix that for you," Musichetta beckoned Jehan towards her. He sat down on the floor next to where she was sprawled out with books and papers, and she began undoing what was left of Jehan's braid. She continued, "We should really get on that. Producing a Patronus isn't something you can half-ass for the test."

"Can you believe that though?" Bossuet said indignantly, "A Patronus! That's as advanced as magic gets!"

"I swear, Potter ruined it for us," Grantaire snorted, "Everyone thinks that any genius with a knack for DADA can conjure up a Patronus."

"We've got to at least try," reasoned Feuilly, "Is there anything to it other than the spell and thinking happy thoughts?"

"Probably, otherwise it wouldn't be advanced magic," Courfeyrac said. He pointed his wand resolutely in the air, squinted his eyes in concentration, and yelled, "Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing happened.

"Expecto Patronum!" He repeated. This time a faint grey mist emerged from the wand tip and quickly dissipated.

"Having performance issues?" Grantaire snickered.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and threw a quill at him, saying, "Grow up, Grantaire. If you think it's so easy, do it yourself."

Grantaire was used to random objects being thrown at him by Enjolras, so he caught the quill in mid air. "Like I'd be able to make one," he retorted.

"Wait, why not?" Jehan asked, ignoring Musichetta's tutting when he twisted around to look at Grantaire.

"Eh, what would I be thinking of?" Grantaire shrugged, immediately continuing, "Anyways, what's our game plan?"

"Practice makes perfect?" Marius suggested with a shrug. "Since Hardcastle obviously isn't going to be any help, we'll just have to try and see what happens."

To no one's surprise, Feuilly was the first one to successfully produce a Patronus a couple of study sessions later. Not everyone was even paying attention when they heard someone say the spell. They did take notice when a husky sprinted by their heads.

"You didn't!" Enjolras gasped disbelievingly, looking at Feuilly with more than the usual fawning respect.

"Sweet! A dog!" Bahorel said, trying to touch it. His hand went right through, and the dog loped back towards Feuilly, whose face was as blissfully happy as a kid being informed that they were going to go to Disneyland.

"Not just any dog," Cosette added, spellbook tumbling from her lap as she ran over to congratulate Feuilly, "A husky! I love those!"

"What were you thinking of?" Grantaire asked from where he was sprawled out on the floor, refilling a cup with what looked like butterbeer. "What was your happy thought?"

"My Hogwarts acceptance letter," Feuilly said, his Patronus finally beginning to dissolve into clear air. The others nodded comprehendingly. Feuilly was muggleborn and an orphan; to find out that he could come learn magic and meet new friends must have been mindblowing.

Encouraged by Feuilly's success, the others began to produce their own in short time. Soon, their study sessions would be interrupted by Marius' rabbit running frantically past, pursued by Courfeyrac's tomcat, which would in turn be pursued by Cosette's bird of paradise. Every time there was a new Patronus revealed, the group would stop whatever they were doing to engage in some light-hearted psychoanalysis.

"Octopi are one of the most intelligent animals," Musichetta told Combeferre proudly when his was revealed, "And they can adapt to any situation. Nice!"

 No one understood Bahorel's kangaroo until they discovered that it could box. Jehan spent an entire night researching swans to announce to his friends that not only were they majestic animals, but they could also break your bones like nobody's business.

"I just can't believe that yours isn't a bald eagle," Courfeyrac griped when Bossuet managed to produce his Patronus, "I mean, like, it's so _close_ ," he continued, waving at the golden eagle perched on his shoulder. "Unbelievable."

Enjolras' Patronus had both taken the longest to appear and been subject to the hottest debate.

"It's got to be a bear or a wolverine, something that could fuck you up," Cosette declared with certainty.

"What if it's a peacock that's as pretty as he is?" Courfeyrac laughed, ignoring Enjolras' scowl.

"It's got to be a snake, he is _such_ a Slytherin," Musichetta said.

"I bet you that it's not going to be a normal animal at all, just to screw with us," Bahorel offered, "It'll be a phoenix or a dragon, or maybe a fucking unicorn."

"Do I get any say in this?" Enjolras asked wearily, stirring a glowing red potion that was due next class.

"Nope," Courfeyrac answered.

Grantaire was the only one who gave no suggestions, and even halfheartedly told the others to "stop bugging him about it, jeez," a couple of times. No one asked him why, though, seeing that he was very uncomfortable with the whole subject of Patronuses, and became more and more melancholy with every new success.

One day, Enjolras had clapped his hands, startling the drowsy students. It was hours after dark, and they were beginning to flag.

"What is it, Enjolras?" Combeferre slurred, lifting his head from the astronomical charts he'd been poring over.

"What if the reason I can't produce a Patronus is because I need to do it against a real Dementor?" Enjolras asked excitedly.

"And where are you going to get a real Dementor?" Grantaire laughed.

"The Room of Requirement," Enjolras said, "I'll go there right now and ask it to help."

"No, not now," Feuilly said, "I am too tired and I am not about to miss this. Tomorrow."

The group assembled in the Room of Requirement the next day, refreshed but nervous.

"Do you have your happy thought?" Joly asked for the third time.

"Yes, yes, I --" Enjolras began to answer, but he stopped halfway through the sentence as the whole group was hit with a sudden cold shiver. Even the Gryffindors couldn't help a shudder of fear as they turned around to see a Dementor approaching from behind. They knew it wasn't real, but some of them raised their wands in an automatic defense response. Only Enjolras remained completely cool, extending his arm with perfect form and saying deliberately, "Expecto Patronum."

A white mist blossomed out of his wand and coalesced into a galloping horse, which ran straight into the Dementor and dissipated it with a toss of the neck. The threat eliminated, it cantered back towards the group, whose fear immediately was replaced by awe and chatter.

"I was closest!" Bahorel triumphantly declared, "I said unicorn!"

"It might as well be a unicorn," Cosette said dreamily, "It's a beautiful animal."

"What does a horse even mean?" Musichetta wondered, watching it do another lap around the group for the hell of it with a small smile.

"Group oriented, temperamental, and difficult to tame? Sounds like Enjolras to me," Grantaire said without hesitation. His shockingly accurate statement drew the group's attention to him, and they realized that his smile was pulled down at the corners with a sadness that went beyond his usual sarcasm. Not sure whether to call him out on it, they glanced at each other awkwardly until Courfeyrac said, "Hey, Bahorel, don't you think this is a great day for Quidditch practice?"

"Yeah," Bahorel said with enthusiasm, "If we go to the field now, we can get some extra practice before the match."

With a wave and a whoop of "Go Gryffindor!" the two Quidditch players left the room, and others began to follow their example, all giving different excuses.

"I think I'll stay in here and practice," Enjolras said, waving them all goodbye. Grantaire was about to leave himself, realizing who he was being left alone in the room with, but Enjolras reached out and stopped him.

"Grantaire?" Enjolras asked, brow furrowed with what looked like concern, "I want to know if there's anything bothering you."

"What're you talking about? You know me, never bothered by anything," Grantaire answered, laughing it off. The sincerity in Enjolras' eyes, as well as his tightened grip on Grantaire's arm, made the laughter die in his throat.

"Something about the Patronuses is… worrying you," Enjolras persisted, "You never want to talk about them, let alone your own. You never even try to produce one by yourself, and I know you can, because out of all of us you might be the most intelligent besides maybe the Ravenclaws. Can you really not think of any happy memories? Is that it?"

Grantaire stayed silent for a long time before replying. Enjolras had almost decided to let his arm go and apologize when Grantaire answered in a small voice, "I've already made mine before."

"Oh!" Enjolras gasped, with a flash of comprehension, "Is it the form that bothers you?"

Grantaire's eyes suddenly became unable to meet Enjolras', which would have been answer enough, even if he didn't murmur, "You're going to make fun of me…"

"We wouldn't, I promise!" Enjolras said, "Wait. Me specifically?"

Grantaire didn't reply. With a shaky inhale, he raised his wand arm, looked Enjolras directly in the eyes, and said, "Expecto Patronum."

There was none of the hazy mist and slow reaction time that the less magically gifted students had had problems with. Almost before Grantaire had finished saying the spell, a horse emerged from his wand and trotted over towards Enjolras'. Even if Enjolras hadn't come from the sort of rich country family that educated him about equestrianism, the similarities were unmistakable. Enjolras looked at the two Patronuses, standing side by side, and _understood_. He understood the way Grantaire looked at him sometimes with adoration and hopelessness obvious in his eyes, the way Grantaire had once drunkenly whispered, "I believe in you, Enjolras," the way that Grantaire's hand sometimes lingered on Enjolras' shoulder before he dropped it down by his side again, the million tiny things Grantaire did that had seemed like hate but were really love.

That understanding came just seconds too late, because Grantaire gave a little whine of despair, wrenched free from Enjolras' grip, and began to turn for the door. Before Enjolras could think anything more than a frantic _I'm going to lose him_ , he had run after Grantaire, taken him by both shoulders, and planted a kiss right on his lips. For a long and terrible moment, Grantaire was frozen in what Enjolras dearly hoped was shock and not horror or distaste. Then he flung his arms around Enjolras' neck, wand clattering to the ground forgotten, and returned the kiss with open-mouthed eagerness. When Enjolras was beginning to feel a little light-headed from oxygen deprivation and delight, he leaned back with a grin.

"Is that kiss what you're going to use for your happy memory? Because that's definitely going to be mine."

Grantaire still looked shell-shocked and was panting from the kiss, but he still found it in himself to give Enjolras a cheeky smirk and say, "Nah, no, not that."

"No? Then what?"

"The second one," Grantaire said, tipping forward for more.


End file.
